


Homecoming

by SwanFloatieKnight



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 1947, Alternate Universe - Post-War, Caretaking, Caring Merlin (Merlin), Fever, Germany, Hair Washing, Hurt Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Shaving, Soldiers, Starvation, Winter, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23976118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwanFloatieKnight/pseuds/SwanFloatieKnight
Summary: They had met during the war, and then lost sight of each other in the chaos that the whole year of 1945 had been. But they had never forgotten each other either.It is in January 1947 that Arthur finally finds Merlin again.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 129
Collections: Scruffy Pendragon Fest





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FervidAsAFlame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FervidAsAFlame/gifts).



> soooo Tori really talked me into posting something for this fest xD but thank you so much for beta reading this fic <3 so kind of you  
> if anyone should wonder: yes, this fic is set in post-WWII Germany
> 
> Also I thought it might be a good date to post it today, 75 years after the ending of WWII

A/N: I posted this fic on Ao3, and on Ao3 alone. If you read this on any other website or platform, please consider that I did not consent to this.

* * *

There was a former soldier wearing an old army coat standing on the road beneath the bare tree that grew next to where the small path that led to the farm of Merlin’s family. He was eying the dark farm house that ducked into the snow from the distance, shaking in the icy wind. Merlin threw him a suspicious look when he crossed the small distance between house and hen coop. He didn’t know yet what the man wanted here, but he could guess.

Most people wanted just one thing these days: food. And food was scarce. They still were relatively well off on the farm, even if they, too, were going hungry most days, but at least not starving like the people in the cities. Merlin threw the soldier another gaze, then he turned away. They could barely afford to give him so much as a slice of bread, as much as he wanted to.

With a heavy sigh he opened the door to the hen coop. Only three meagre hens did they have left now, in January 1947, and they could barely afford to feed them. But Hunith insisted on keeping the livestock alive as long as possible, the two cows as well as the hens. They needed milk and eggs.

Merlin searched the straw for eggs, and actually found one. With a smile he put it in the small bowl he had brought with him, then he left the coop and locked the door behind him. Things kept behind unlocked doors usually were stolen in these times. When he crossed the yard he couldn’t help but look up to the tree. The stranger was still standing there, watching, considering, then taking a few hesitant steps away from the road, towards the farm. Merlin shook his head. The poor man.

He just wanted to turn back to the house, get inside where his mum and their farmhands were already waiting for him with the dinner. But then the gate to the barn opened. Lancelot, one of their farmhands, came out and with him the watchdog Kilgharrah.

Kilgharrah must have smelled the man. He barked loudly and ran up the path towards the street. Merlin whirled around and slipped on a patch of ice. It took all his agility to not drop the single egg in his bowl, but he couldn’t prevent the fall. His bottom and his right shoulder hurt like hell, he groaned and Lancelot hurried over to help him up.

“Merlin! Are you hurt?”

Merlin grit his teeth. “No, I’m fine.” He shoved the bowl into Lancelot’s hands. “Here, take this to my mother. I’ll go and fetch that bloody dog.” He sat up and rubbed his sore shoulder. Then he yelled: “Kilgharrah! Come here!”

But Kilgharrah didn’t listen to his yells and whistles. So Merlin had no other choice than to run after him, even though Kilgharrah was much faster and had had a head start from the beginning. He reached the soldier long before Merlin, barked at him and jumped around him excitedly, but looked more like he wanted to play with him.

Merlin rolled his eyes. He was now standing only a few metres away from the stranger, panting heavily and mumbling more to himself: “Great watchdog you are. Kilgharrah, heel!” he added with more resolution to his voice, and the dog finally listened and left the man alone.

With another annoyed glare at Kilgharrah Merlin apologized to the man. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what had him so upset. Usually he doesn’t just run off like that.”

He looked at the stranger, for the first time actually taking in his features. The pale skin. The bearded cheeks. The greasy strands of long hair sticking to his forehead seemed dirty but must have been blond once. The glassy stare from tired blue eyes and the dark circles under them. The man was clearly exhausted. Merlin swallowed heavily, his heart clenching in his chest. If only he could offer him something more than cold comfort and a few kind words.

“What brought you here? Looking for someone?” Maybe he could at least be of assistance, if nothing else.

The stranger cleared his throat a few times, before he said hoarsely: “Actually yes, I was looking for a farm in this area. Looking for a friend who had told me that he lived there.” His voice broke, he coughed a few times and then started again. “But I guess I just found him. Hello, Merlin.”

Merlin blinked a few times in shock as he realised who that man must be. “No. This cannot be.” He reached out with his right hand, wanted to touch the man, feel him, make sure he was real. “Arthur? Is it really you?”

The former soldier nodded.

“Oh god, Arthur!” Left hand pressed to his mouth, Merlin fought back a sob. “Two years! I haven’t heard from you in two years, and now you’re here! You found me!” A single tear ran down his cheek.

Arthur gave him a tired smile. “I never stopped looking for you. God, I am so happy that I have found you, Merlin.”

Now Merlin couldn’t hold back any longer, he threw himself into Arthur’s arms and gave him a quick kiss to his stubbly cheek. “Me neither,” he whispered. “I asked everyone and everywhere. Every homecoming soldier that passed through. I even asked the Red Cross, but you had disappeared. I couldn’t even find out if you were still alive. I didn’t know anything. And now you’re here. God, I am so happy.” He beamed at Arthur. “Come, let’s go home. I want you to finally meet my mother.”

Hunith didn’t look exactly pleased when Merlin entered the kitchen with a stranger. “Who is he?” she hissed at him while Merlin guided Arthur to the bench and told him to sit down next to the farmhands Lancelot and Percival. “You know that we cannot afford to feed every bypassing stranger for free, as much as I’d like to!”

Merlin turned around to face his mother and his face was so happy that Hunith knew who the man was before Merlin even told her his name. “But this is not a random bypassing soldier, mum. This is Arthur Pendragon, the man I met in Berlin during the war. Who saved my life. I’ve told you about him.”

Arthur was now standing up again, offering Hunith his hand and trying to smile. “Nice to meet you, Mrs Emrys. Merlin told me a lot, so I’m glad that I finally can meet you in person.”

Hunith returned the shaky smile before she eventually got another bowl and spoon for Arthur. “Please, call me Hunith. And sit down, we were just starting dinner. I am sure you are hungry.”

Of course Arthur was hungry. He couldn’t even remember his last warm meal or the last time he had been able to sit down at an actual table to eat. Now he held a spoon in his shaking hand while Hunith filled his bowl with hot soup and Merlin was next to him smiling at him and putting a hand on his thigh.

“Don’t eat too quickly. Don’t want you to get sick,” he whispered.

Arthur could do nothing more than nod. The only thing he was able to focus on right now was the bowl in front of him and Merlin’s soothing presence next to him. And after all these years of war and cruelties, of unsteadiness and wandering, he had finally found a place where he might belong.

It felt like he had come home.

After dinner, the farmhands left for their chambers, and Hunith helped Merlin to warm water after bringing them a bar of soap and two towel. Then, she wished both of them a good night and went to sleep herself. Merlin and Arthur were left alone in the kitchen, with the warming water on the hearth and a comfortable silence stretching between them while Arthur slowly undressed himself and Merlin watched him. It was shocking to see how thin he was, how clearly his ribs were visible. It pained Merlin to think of what Arthur must have gone through.

Finally, Arthur spoke up, exhaustion straining his voice audibly. “Thanks so much for doing all of this. I know it can’t be easy for you to just take me in. These are hard times. But I promise, I will make up for it. I will work on the farm, if you need me. Help with the field work, or the animals. I can – ”

Merlin interrupted him. “I know. I know you will. But first, you must get well. Rest for a few days.” He touched Arthur’s pale cheek. “I knew it. You’ve got a fever.”

“I do?” Arthur looked at him in confusion.

Merlin nodded, but was quick to add: “Doesn’t matter right now. Let’s get you a little cleaned up before I let you into my bed.” He got the now steaming kettle of water from the fire and poured some of it into the huge washing bowl that was already placed on the table in front of Arthur. “Can you manage on your own, or do you want me to help you?”

Arthur smiled at him weakly. “If you offer it… how could I resist the temptation of feeling your hands on my skin once again?”

With a small laugh Merlin took a cloth and carefully started to wash Arthur’s upper body. He wiped away sweat and dirt, enjoying the sensation of Arthur’s skin against his, even though it worried him to no end how terribly thin Arthur looked. He himself had already lost weight this winter, but compared to Arthur, he was still well nourished. With a quiet sigh, Merlin let the cloth drop back into the bowl.

“Get off your trousers.” He had to help Arthur with that, but in the end they managed and Merlin washed all of his boyfriend’s body thoroughly while Arthur, tired and exhausted, was leaning against the kitchen table. He fought the temptation to just fall asleep right here in the warm kitchen, but he felt his eyelids grow heavier with every wipe of the soft cloth on his skin.

After he had finished he helped to dry Arthur off and then wrapped him up in a blanket to keep him warm. Arthur’s clothes were dirty and torn and needed a wash just as direly as Arthur had. For now, Merlin would just lend him some of his own clothes. That would be enough for the first days.

“Lean over now. I want to wash your hair.” Arthur complied, and Merlin, after soaking his hair thoroughly, took the bar of soap again and rubbed it into Arthur’s hair.

It felt wonderful to let his fingers run through the soapy strands that were so much longer now than the last time he had touched them. It brought back memories, memories of their time in Berlin, of the nights they spent together in the air raid bunker and of nights they spent together more pleasantly. He was glad for the warmth of Arthur’s body he could feel, even if it came mostly from the fever, and also he loved the small sounds of satisfaction and contentedness that Arthur made when Merlin gently massaged his scalp. His hair was so soft…

But no matter how much Merlin enjoyed washing Arthur’s hair, he soon felt Arthur starting to shiver slightly next to him as his wet hair grew cool. He got a cup and rinsed out Arthur’s hair, careful not to spill the water. Then he emptied the bowl, got the louse comb from one of the kitchen drawers and started combing Arthur’s hair over the bowl.

The wet hair made it easier for Merlin to comb it, and that made it less painful for Arthur. Merlin went through his hair thoroughly in order to find every last louse, and it gave him an odd satisfaction to see the little insects crawling around in the bowl after he had extricated Arthur’s hair from them. When he finally was convinced that he had done all he could for the moment, he took the bowl and drowned the lice in the sink where they were rinsed away.

“Are we done now?” Arthur asked from the table. His voice sounded so small and tired that Merlin only wanted to cradle him in his arms and carry him up the stairs to his bed. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

“One last thing. We can soon go to bed. But first, I want to shave you. Not that there are lice in your beard and all this effort was in vain,” he told Arthur, half serious, half joking. Merlin put the comb away and got his razor blades and the shaving soap. It didn’t take him long to cover Arthur’s face in foam, but the shaving itself proved to be a little more difficult as Arthur kept nodding off from time to time.

“Shh… hold still.” Merlin carefully slid the razor blade along Arthur’s cheek. “I know you are tired.” He pressed a small kiss to Arthur’s fever-warm brow. “Just a few more minutes. Then I’ll get you to bed. A real bed. And it’ll be warm, and I’ll be with you.” A few more strokes and Arthur was pretty much clean shaven. Merlin smiled and wiped his face dry with the towel. “Now come.”

He held out his hand, helped Arthur up and led the way up the stairs to the first floor and to his room. Outside the kitchen it was cold, Arthur pulled the woollen blanket tighter around his shoulders and shivered.

Merlin was tired, usually he went to bed earlier, but he had had to care for Arthur. And he could feel the bone-deep tiredness that practically radiated from his boyfriend. Every step made him nearly stumble, and when they finally reached the first floor he could barely drag his feet along. For Arthur, the whole procedure of washing, combing and shaving must have been far more exhausting than for Merlin himself.

Then, they stood in Merlin’s room. When Arthur saw the large bed with the heavy duvets he didn’t trust his eyes at first. This was where he would be sleeping?

Merlin smiled at him apologetically. “I know it’s cold. I don’t have an oven, and even if I had one, we wouldn’t have the fuel to fire it. But it’s still bearable. We’re two now, after all.” He opened a drawer and looked for a nightshirt he could give to Arthur. “If it gets any colder, we’ll have to sleep in the kitchen all together.”

Arthur only nodded. He was shivering hard now and was happy when Merlin took away the blanket and gave him a warm nightshirt in exchange that he could slip into. Then Merlin lifted the duvet to let Arthur crawl under it and he himself curled up behind him, carefully wrapping an arm around his boyfriend.

Slowly, Merlin let his fingers run through Arthur’s now dry, long hair. “I love you so much, Arthur. I am so happy that you are here.” A kiss to his neck. “I will never leave you again, promise. You’re with me now. You’re safe,” Merlin whispered, while he was already drifting off to sleep.

Arthur made a small affirmative noise, too tired to even talk, and smiled happily into the pillow. He, too, fell asleep almost instantly. After all, he was lying in a soft bed, he had eaten, he was clean and shaven for the first time in months, and he felt safe. After almost six years of war and the following two years of wandering around Germany he had finally gotten to a place where he could stay.

Arthur had found Merlin again, but also, more importantly so, a place to call home.

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked this, please leave me a comment and/or kudos :)


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